


I Wasn't Expecting That

by VT44



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Drug Use, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Happily Married, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Parentlock, Sexual Content, just plausable consensual sex, non consensual sex, selling of ones body for drugs, tiny bit of Mystrade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-04-30 03:03:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5147885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VT44/pseuds/VT44
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two young girls turn up on the doorstep of 221 Baker Street claiming that Sherlock is their Father.<br/>Past memories are stirred up for both Sherlock and John. </p><p>When one of the girls becomes seriously ill, it's a race against time to find their mother and find out the truth.</p><p>Please take note of the tags and the warnings! Some of the chapters will be going back into John and Sherlock's past's before they met one another and some not very nice things happen. </p><p>'I completely suck at summaries.... this summary may change as I write the story!'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

John Watson awoke with a start. The first thing he noted was that his back was pressed against his husband, Sherlock Holmes, who had one leg slung over him and one arm tightly wrapped around his stomach. The second thing he noted was his light snoring, which meant he was in the middle of a good long deep sleep that was much needed. The third thing he noted was the sounds of heavy rain on the roof. The fourth thing he noted was that he could hear the screams of a child, a small one at that, and the cries of a baby, coming from the street. He clearly heard a women’s voice scream at the children.  
‘You do not move from this step until your Father comes to get you. Do not scream or cry when he gets here and do not follow me!’ and with that John heard the sound of a motor bike start and zoom off down Baker Street. Sherlock’s breath ghosted the back of John’s neck and hitched when John dislodged himself from the tangle of limbs. John ran a hand through his hair several times and Sherlock settled back into his sleep. John silently padded out of their bedroom, into the living room and out the door. The child had stopped screaming and was shushing at what John suspected was the baby, who was whimpering. John was careful to miss the squeaky step on the way down the stairs, and stopped just in front of the front door. He could make out a blob on the step just before a crack of thunder sounded loudly nearby. The baby gave an almighty scream and began crying again.  
‘sssshhh Nori please. We don’t want father to be angry when he finds us. Please sssshhhh’. John heard the small voice plead above the rain. John slowly opened the door to find a young girl cradling a baby in her arms, sitting on the top step of 221B. Her eyes widened when she saw John and she leapt up and into the rain before spinning around to face John, her expression startled.  
‘Are you alright little one?’ John asked gently, walking down the two steps and kneeling in front of her. The rain immediately soaked through his pyjama bottoms and t-shirt but he didn’t mind.  
‘I… I’m just waiting for my father, he lives here, he’s going to come get me when the sun comes up.’ The little girl hesitated before speaking, then blurted the sentence out in a rush. The baby in her arms had started to whimper again and the little girl gave her a small bounce and ssshhhed her. John had to make a decision quickly, he needed to find out who her father was, get out of the rain, find out who had left them here in the rain in the first place and get the little girl to trust him. He opted for the second idea.  
‘Do you want to come and wait in my flat. It’s nice and warm and out of the rain.’ John held out his hand, palm facing up, to the girl. Her eyes stared wide-eyed at him and she promptly sat down on the pavement and began to cry, which in turn meant the baby started crying too.  
‘Mum said… mum said… I’m waiting… I… I want my mummy’ the little girl cried, holding onto the baby tightly. John’s mind was made up in that moment. He leaned forward and gently scooped the two children into his arms, grabbed the small backpack that had been sitting next to them by the door, and walked back into 221 Baker Street. The little girl sobbed loudly in John’s arms but didn’t protest. John hurried back upstairs, thankful he had left the door to the flat open, deposited the backpack next to the couch and then set the little girl, who still clutched the howling baby in her arms, on the couch. He knelt down in front of her pulling the afghan from the back of the couch in the process. Both children were sopping wet and John needed to get them out of those clothes into something else, he also needed to get them to stop crying and settled.  
‘Little one,’ he addressed the little girl, who looked up at him through a hiccupped sob. ‘take some deep breathes for me. I’m not going to hurt you; I just want to help you.’ The little girl complied with John’s request and gulp in some air between her sobs, which began to slow and eventually turned into quiet sniffles.  
‘That’s better.’ As soon as the little girl had stopped crying, so did the baby, staring wide eyed at John.  
‘There now, I didn’t even ask you for your name little one. I’m John and I’m a doctor’ John held out his hand again. This was the test. If the little girl took his hand they were going to be alright, if not, John didn’t like to think about what would happen then.’ The little girl stared at his hand for a moment, before reaching for it and giving it a little shake.  
‘I’m Rebecca Isabelle and I’m 5 and this is my sister Eleanor Olivia, she’s 9 months old’. The baby gave a quiet coo at the use of her name and reached for John’s hand also.  
‘Well Rebecca and Eleanor, I think we need to get you out of those wet clothes so you don’t catch a cold. Rebecca how about I hold Eleanor while you take off your wet pants and top.’ The little girl did as she was told and passed Eleanor over to John. Eleanor began to whimper but John gave her a playful bounce and she quietened down. Rebecca pulled off her wet clothes and handed them to John, who just placed them down on the floor next to the couch. Rebecca got off the couch and went to the back pack. She pulled out a onsie baby suit, handing it to John for Eleanor, and then pulled out her own clothes, bee print pyjamas and pulled them on. John quickly stripped and dressed Eleanor before sitting her up against the back and arm of the couch. Rebecca climbed back up onto the couch and reached for Eleanor’s hand, sitting next to her facing John. John reach for their entwined hands and held onto them as he asked the next question.  
‘You said your father lives here, what’s his name little one?’ John was pretty sure himself and Sherlock were the only two males living in this building, and two of the only three people that living in the whole building itself. Maybe the girl’s mother had left her on the wrong step and meant to leave them at 217.  
The little girl’s voice cut through his thoughts.  
‘Sherlock Holmes’


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock awoke to what he thought had been the crying of a small child in the flat.

_Dam John and his stupid movies_ Sherlock thought as he stretched out flat on his stomach and tried to get comfortable again. He had actually been having a pleasant dream for once. Well really a cross between dream and reality replaying in his mind’s eye.

 

_Sherlock held John’s hands tightly in his own and gave them a gentle squeeze._

_‘I William Sherlock Scott Holmes take you, John Hamish Watson, to be my lawfully wedded Husband. I know I am a difficult man. I know I haven’t always made out times together easy, but know this John. I never thought I would ever be capable of the love that I have for you, it consumes almost every waking moment of my day. You have brought a happiness to my life that I never thought possible, you didn’t try and change me, turn me into someone I am not. I never want to be apart from you for the rest of our lives together.’_

_Sherlock gently took the silver band he had picked out for John and slid it down his finger, making sure it fit snuggly at the base._

_‘With this ring I pledge my eternal and everlasting love for you, my John’ Sherlock smiled, a rare genuine smile. John beamed back at him, tears glistening in his eyes. Sherlock could tell from the way his mouth curled up at the edges that he very much wanted to kiss Sherlock then and there, but he still had his bit to do._

_‘I John Hamish Watson, take you William Sherlock Scott Holmes, to be my lawfully wedded Husband. You aren’t as difficult as you seem to think you are. If people bothered to take the time to get to know you, they would see there is absolutely nothing about you that needs changing. You are the best, most amazing and spectacular man I have ever met, and I cannot imagine my life without you in it.’_

_John took hold of the gold band he had chosen for Sherlock and slid it down his finger in the same fashion Sherlock just had._

_‘With this ring I pledge my eternal and everlasting love for you, my Sherlock.’ John continued to beam at him, a small tear fell down his cheek and he laughed wiping it away whilst their hands were still clasped together._

_‘If anyone here today has any reason why these too should not be allowed to convene in this civil union, speak now’ the celebrant paused, and Sherlock nervously waited during the silence._

_‘you may now kiss your husband’ Sherlock leaned forward with much relief, the moment he had been waiting for during the entire ceremony, he leaned further forward and_

 

Sherlock jolted awake for a second time, his subconsciousness was telling him that someone had called his name. He groaned and shifted onto his back in the middle of the bed. Sometimes John really was annoying, maybe it was a new client. But John wouldn’t be silly enough to have let them in at – Sherlock glanced at John’s beside clock’ – 4am. Sherlock groaned again and sat up reaching forward for his pyjama pants. He pulled them on, stretched out his back and then padded toward the sitting room ruffling his hair and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. When he reached the sitting room he was instantly awake. Sitting on his couch were two young children, one approximately 5 years old and the other approximately 9 months, wrapped his afghan, holding hands with his John. For his part John was sitting on the floor in front of them talking softly. For a moment Sherlock let the slight surprise and confusion he was feeling pass across his face. Sherlock coughed and John looked around startled.

‘Just a moment little one’ John sprang to his feet and made his way over to Sherlock. Sherlock noticed his soaked clothing, particularly around his knees and the way his pupils had dilated slightly when he had noticed Sherlock – which Sherlock thought smugly to himself, seemed to happen every time John looked his way or caught sight of him, even if it was just a photo or a tiny slither of his body – Sherlock shook his head, he shouldn’t be thinking of that now.

 

‘John, what’s going on? Why are there two young girls sitting on our couch in their pyjamas?’ John tugged gently on his arm and turned him around so their backs were facing the girls.

‘Sherlock’ John started, Sherlock raised his eyebrows, he didn’t much like John’s tone, it normally meant one of two things, either Sherlock had broken one of the experience rules (which they had finally agreed on after 6 months of marriage) or John had possibly found out something from Sherlock’s past, the parts that he rarely, if ever, spoke about.

‘these two girls were left on our doorstep by their mother this morning at about 3:30am. I was woken by their crying and her shouting. They were sitting on the door step when I went down, and I made the decision to bring them in. The older girl’

‘she’s 5’

‘yes Sherlock, her name is Rebecca and the younger one is Eleanor. Rebecca told me that her mother left her here to wait for her father.’ John paused at this, looking up into Sherlock’s eyes.

‘yes… John… and where is their father?’

‘Sherlock… it’s you’ Sherlock let out a long low belly laugh. He couldn’t catch his breath he was laughing so hard.

‘John… hahaha… John that simply cannot be true… I don’t… It just’ Sherlock continued to snigger. Neither man noticed that the two girls were not on the couch anymore but at their feet. Rebecca reached up and grabbed a handful of Sherlock’s pyjama pants and tugged sharply, whilst Eleanor gripped onto John’s pants. Sherlock’s laugh immediately stopped and he bent down to the young girl.

‘It is true. Mummy told us. She never lied to us.’ Sherlock studied the young girls face.

‘she may have been mean and hated us, but she never lied to us.’ Rebecca nodded with the finality of it and reached her arms out to Sherlock.

‘Father?’ the innocence and question in her voice shocked Sherlock, who for some reason could not keep up with the happenings of the early morning. Sherlock studied the girl for a good minute, the way her hair sat, the way her ears stuck out just slightly, the colour and style of her hair, her cheekbones, her eye colour, the shape of her eyes, her lips, her teeth, her face as a whole. He reached forward and pick her up, much to John’s relief as he let out a breath he didn’t even know he had been holding. He bent down and picked up Eleanor and beckoned Sherlock back to the couch. Eleanor’s eyes began to droop as she lay in John’s arms and he gently rocked her. Rebecca sat in Sherlock’s lap, one hand securely holding onto his pyjamas leg, the other raised up to her face, her thumb in her mouth. She leaned against Sherlock’s naked chest and her eyes began to droop too. Even once she seemed to fall asleep, her death grip on Sherlock’s pants never waived. It seemed that now she had found her father, she wasn’t going to let him go.

 

John quietly cleared his throat, conscious of waking the girls.

‘Sherlock, I found both of their birth certificates in the bag.’ Sherlock looked up sharply at John, having been lost in a haze of confusion as to how this girl could possibly be his. He blinked and gave his head a small shake.

‘Go on’

‘On Rebecca’s certificate you are named as the father, but on Eleanor’s the father is unknown. Rebecca was born on 12th February 2007, meaning her birthday was only about a month ago, and Eleanor was born on 6th July 2011. Their mother’s name is Nadia Jones; does that ring any bells my love?’ Sherlock had been analysing the information both visual and from the certificates. Alarmingly he couldn’t fault any of it, he was indeed the father of these two girls, the proof before his own eyes was undeniable. He gently rubbed his hand down Rebecca’s back and she snuggled closer into his body, still gripping his pants. He couldn’t remember the name Nadia, but five, no make that six years ago there were a number of hazy memories. He gave Rebecca’s hair a sniff – strawberry with just a hint of lavender. Sherlock gasped, raising a hand to his mouth, a memory flooding back. He stared wide eyed a John, who gently took the hand he raised, after making sure Eleanor was comfortable in the crook of his left arm, and gave it a gently kiss.

‘What is it Sherlock?’

‘John… I’ Sherlock swallowed the large lump in his throat and cleared it is as quietly as he could.

‘It was the worst night of my life.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has taken me so long! Trying to find myself a job after 6 1/2 years of uni is very time consuming!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed chapter 2! I am going to try and have chapter 3 up within a week. It's going to be a pretty exciting chapter to write number 3!
> 
> This work is not Beta'd so I apologise for any spelling, grammatical and other errors! 
> 
> Kudos and comments always welcome! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take note of the tags - they relate in particular to this chapter!
> 
> Mentions of rape and using ones body to obtain drugs. You do not need to read this chapter, and if it may trigger anything for you, please do not read! 
> 
> Otherwise enjoy! It's a little longer than my normal chapters. also a bit dark with a tiny bit of fluff at the end. Let me know what you think, and remember I have no beta so sorry for any changes in tense (i totally know I do this), for grammatically incorrect sentences and spelling mistakes!

 

_Sherlock shivered in the cold night air, his tatty tracksuit pants and t-shirt doing nothing to prevent the wind from whipping at his skin. He felt lost, alone and most of all ashamed. All he really wanted, no NEEDED was that next hit, but he had used the last of his money on his previous hit. Mycroft had cut off his bank account, and all his acquaintances, associates whatever and whoever they were had been threatened against giving him money. He so desperately need that next hit, he clawed at his arms, drawing five small pin pricks of blood near his elbow on his left arm. There was only one last way for his to obtain his hit. He wandered the streets until he found what he was looking for. The place was called the Den, it was a shoddy, boarded up house on the outskirts of London. Sherlock knew he had been walking for hours, his legs pained him but the desire for the hit overlook every other bodily sense he had._

_He entered the house and proceeded up the staircase. At the tops of the stairs he was confronted by a man, who he only knew as Bernie._

_‘Ah Sherlock! It’s been a while, what are you here for Son?’_

_‘I need a hit’ the man chuckled_

_‘Don’t we all mate. How are you going to pay for it this time?’ Sherlock scrunched his eyes closed. He didn’t have to do this, he could walk away now, go to Mycroft, get help. But stuff that, Mycroft didn’t understand, Mycroft’s stupid husband didn’t understand, nobody did. the thoughts, the never ending thoughts. The taunts, the torment, the physical and verbal assault and punishments. He just needed some relief, some calm. He craved it so badly he thought he might die. Resolve strong, Sherlock opened his eyes._

_‘My body’ The man glanced up surprised._

_‘The bank account dried up Son?’ Sherlock remained silent. The man chuckled again and smirked._

_‘Well I know how much it takes you to get the hit you need, so you’ll have to sell yourself twice tonight mate.’ Sherlock remained expressionless but nodded. Inside he was terrified. He was about to give up the one thing he had been able to maintain control over for his whole life. The one thing he had never let anyone else have. The man led him down the dark corridor and into a room._

_‘You’ve got no diseases have ya mate?’ Sherlock make a small grunting noise and half shrugged._

_‘ah, so no diseases then. Right Son, I’ve got the perfect pair for you. They’ll take care of you. You wait here.’ The man left closing the door behind him. Sherlock immediately noted that there was no handle on the inside of the door, and a solitary mattress in the corner of the room. He began shivering slightly from the cold and the terror of what he was about to do. His mind kept telling him he could leave, leave before they came back, but he simply couldn’t leave. He need the hit too much, he needed it so badly to keep himself alive._

_The door creaked open and a young woman and man walked in._

_‘Oh look at him, isn’t he just dashing’ the woman said as she walked up to Sherlock, and gently ran a finger down his face. Sherlock supressed the urge to shudder, instead staring at the man._

_‘oh we are going to have fun tonight!’ the man walked forward and immediately groped at Sherlock’s crutch. To his horror his body responded and he let out a small, almost inaudible moan._

_‘He’s so ready for it aren’t you sweetie? What’s your name?’ the woman gripped onto his chin and he was forced to look at her._

_‘Sherlock, Sherlock… Holmes’ the man moved to stand behind him, and stuck him hand straight down the front of Sherlock’s pants, rubbing himself against Sherlock’s back and breathing hotly next to his ear. Another short moan escaped Sherlock’s lips._

_‘You’re going to love him inside of you. He’s so big’ The man stroked Sherlock, causing him to buck his hips. Sherlock closed his eyes trying to quell the panic he was feeling inside. He could feel them touching him everywhere, their lips, the hands, their legs, squashing him between them, stripping him of his clothes, moving him toward the mattress and worst of all his body was betraying him, seeming to enjoy it. Sherlock opened his eyes again to see the women preparing to lie down on the mattress, he could feel the man’s hands getting lower and lower down his back._

_‘P…pro…protection’ he managed to stutter out. The woman looked up at him smiling_

_‘oh sweetheart, we don’t need protection. We know you’re a Virgin, in every sense of the word’ Sherlock flushed and tried to pull away, the man gripped his inner right thigh and left bicep, pushing him towards the bed again._

_‘now Sherlock, no running away, Bernie needs for you to pay us before we can give you your hit’ Sherlock froze. He couldn’t do this. He had to get out of here._

_‘no… no… I’ve changed my mind. I have to go.’ Sherlock tried to struggle out of the man’s grip, but it only tightened, sure to leave bruises on his delicate skin. The man pushed him into a kneeling position at the foot of the bed_

_‘Please I don’t want to do this anymore. Please let me go!’ Sherlock felt a sharp blow to the side of the head causing him to cry out._

_‘Grab the blindfold, gag and handcuffs’ the man’s voice was gruff next to his ear._

_‘Pretty boy, you’re not getting out of this now.’ Sherlock could feel the man’s fingers getting closer and closer to his arse._

_‘No plea…’ a cloth was shoved unceremoniously into his mouth. His eyes covered with another piece of cloth and his arms pulled painfully behind his back and the handcuffs biting into his wrists. His mind blanked for a moment and he could feel himself being manhandled to please both the man and the woman. Tears slid down his cheeks beneath the blindfold and into the gag and he was violated. It felt to Sherlock it was going to last forever. Sherlock tried to block it all out, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to think of something else. The grinding, the thrusting, Sherlock could feel his body reacting as anyone would, and moaned loudly. The man’s grip on his hips was unbearably tight, his nails digging in as he grunted above Sherlock. The momentum of the man behind him was pushing him forward into the women. Sherlock groaned as the pain intensified and he could feel a small trickle of blood run down his thighs. He couldn’t control himself, his moaning and groaning became almost constant and he felt a strain in his groin and he released himself. The woman and the man cried out simultaneously, and Sherlock fell forward onto the woman as the man pushed forward._

_The man roughly pulled out of him, causing him to cry out and the man threw him down onto the mattress. He felt the caress of the woman’s fingers on his cock, and was instantly hard again._

_‘he’s so eager, such a young slut’ she leant up next to his face and licked up his cheek. Sherlock tried to pull away but he was still blindfolded, gaged and his arms painfully pulled behind his back. She began stroking him and Sherlock struggled to understand why. He tried to talk, to ask her what was going on, but she gently shushed him and with her free hand pinched his nipples._

_‘You’re so very beautiful and from what I have heard intelligent. I could use some of you in the future’. So soon after his first orgasm, Sherlock shot off his load again. He couldn’t see what into, but he could hear that his ejaculate was captured in some sort of container. The woman’s soft fingers were once again caressing him, this time in the crook of his elbow. He felt a small prick and the cool liquid being injected into his veins._

_‘Sleep well darling’ the woman kissed his forehead and then Sherlock heard the man and woman leave the room. He tried to cry out, to get someone attention but he already knew it was no use. He felt dirty, violated, drained and alone. He felt certain he was going to die as he closed his eyes and let the darkness overtake him._

 

‘I don’t really remember what happened after that, but I have made some, what I believe, are accurate deductions. The next time I remember anything was when I woke up in hospital with my brother and Lestrade standing at the end of my bed.’ Sherlock turned himself away from John on the sofa. Even after all these years, he was still so disgusted by what had happened, his inability to fight back, the fact that he teetered so close to the edge.

 

After Sherlock had proclaimed it was the worst day of his life, they had silently agreed to put Rebecca in their bed, and, after having wrapped Eleanor in the afghan, they nestled her in John’s chair. John had started making a mental list of all the things they would now need to buy, so they could look after the girls. Rebecca had woken when Sherlock tried to place her into bed, and began crying when he pried her hand off his pyjamas. Sherlock observed that Rebecca had already tuned herself into the smell of himself, to be close to him, so he grabbed his dressing gown from the back of the door and wrapped it around her, placing her on his side of the bed, so she could smell his pillow. She whimpered slightly as Sherlock made to leave. He knelt down beside the bed, stroking a gently hand through her hair.

‘Darling, John and I are just going to be out on the couch having a talk. If you need us, you just call out. But now you need to have a sleep.’ Rebecca nodded, her thumb unconsciously finding its way in her mouth and her eyes closing. Sherlock ran his hand through her hair a couple more times before heading back out to face the music with John.

 

Sherlock felt John’s hand on his back.

‘John… please’ John wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s torso and pulled him onto the couch to rest in between his legs, Sherlock’s back resting against his chest. Sherlock sunk back, exhausted closing his eyes. John planted a kiss on his shoulder and hugged him close.

‘Nothing from your past will change my mind about how much I love you.’ John kissed his other shoulder and the back of his neck. Sherlock slowly moved down John’s body until his head came to rest in John’s lap. John began to massage his scalp, just the way he knew would calm Sherlock and assure him, he was still here.

‘I will never leave you my love.’ John leaned down and kissed his forehead.

‘Never’.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this! The thought came to me as I was out walking. 
> 
> I hope to update weekly but we saw how well that was going on my other fics! I am coming back to them as well I promise... I am in the middle (ok at the beginning) of writing another chapter for Soaked. Sorry if there are any mistakes either spelling or grammatical, I do not have a beta.  
> Also if I use words you don't understand, forgive me! and let me know! I'm from Australia and I know sometimes words are used in different ways, for instance the word 'pants'


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